To See You
by littlesparrow33
Summary: How do you adjust to seeing someone you love in a completely different way? In a way that's not of this world? Pre-season finale, Peter/Olivia


*~ Disclaimer ~* I do not own any of the characters, language, plots, or locations from Fringe. The Fox network holds all rights to Fringe and this story is only created for pleasure, not profit.

Author's Note: This is pre-season finale. Started writing this before "Northwest Passage," but didn't get around to finishing it until later. Just, try not to hate me by the end… (As a side-note, and I know it sounds juvenile to mention it, but Peter does not call Olivia nicknames like 'Livia or 'Liv. I'm not saying that it ruins or irreparably damages fanfics, but it's something I always notice and I'm not quite a fan of it. Just thought I'd get that out there.)

To See You

Olivia Dunham rarely tripped.

That is to say, she rarely tripped without just cause or from sheer inattention. She has been tripped up in fights or occasionally in dark alleys, but her movements were typically precise and economical. Until the last month.

On the job, Olivia managed to keep her focus and held up the intense reputation that she had built at the office for being a driven and single-minded woman. However, after working hours (whenever those may be), she found herself tripping up the steps into her apartment, and on the bad nights, headed straight for the scotch. Because the things in her personal life didn't need the same attention she used to give them. Now she either lay on the couch with her tumbler waiting for golden sleep to come along, or she brought work home when she couldn't stand the waiting anymore. Because what she was waiting for wasn't coming back.

One month had gone by since Peter had vanished. She was tired of seeing Walter's crestfallen face when she told him there was no news. She was tired of hearing rumors and false leads as to where he might have gone. And the commiserating tone when Rachel called to catch up last week nearly made her sick. Even though she couldn't tell Rachel the whole story of why Peter left, her sister seemed to pick up on what she wouldn't say. Rachel said not to worry and that he would be coming back. Olivia didn't tell her that she couldn't know that; that none of them could know that. Because she knew Peter and he was an excellent runner.

She sighed as she pulled up in front of her apartment. Olivia grabbed the files that she had stacked on the passenger seat, deciding earlier that she wanted to stay focused tonight. The scotch was only a temporary solution and she knew that; not to mention she thought that Broyles might start to notice and would recommend that she take a sick leave. If anything she wanted more work to stave off this… whatever this was. Olivia pulled herself up the steps, hating the fact that she didn't care enough to watch her footing anymore. Tonight, it earned her a bruise on her hip where she stumbled into the door handle, juggling her papers and her keys between her hands.

Once inside, she started to move to the kitchen to drop everything on the table. But her instincts alerted her to an intruder and within seconds the files were on the floor and her gun was pointing toward the couch. Everything was in shadow around the man sitting on the couch, but Olivia scanned him as best as she was able and determined that he wasn't carrying a weapon out where she could see one. His hands were positioned on his knees and his posture was slouching; he was expecting her and made himself comfortable.

"Slowly reach behind you and to your left and turn on the lamp," Olivia commanded. There was a brief, humorless chuckle before the light was snapped on.

"Hello to you too, sweetheart."

Olivia was frozen, gun still pointing at Peter as he stood up. He opened his mouth to say something, but seemed to decide against it and closed it again. He looked at her with a question in his eyes, as though he was the one with the questions and not the answers. As though he had suddenly come across _her_ in _his_ home and was wondering why she was there. As though he hadn't just appeared after missing her for a month.

Slowly, Olivia lowered the gun. She was very deliberately breathing, the way that Charlie had taught her to when they were undercover. _If you can control your breathing, you can control your actions and the situation_, he had said. She controlled the situation.

"Peter," she got out, but then had to stop again. This was the longest that she had looked at him since the night the building had disappeared. He still glimmered. She didn't know why a part of her believed that he would stop after being away for awhile. It never stopped, because he was never from here. She felt sick.

"Olivia," he replied. And oddly enough, those words seemed to hold an entire conversation. But it wasn't the _right_ conversation, she was sure of that. He still had the answers.

"Peter," she repeated, her voice slightly stronger this time, "where…?"

"Anywhere and everywhere. Away from here, anyway," Peter gave her a grim smile. "I ran."

"What did you do?"

"Met some new people. Met some old… friends. Mostly I was running." He nodded at her hand. "Think you can put that away, now?"

She looked down at the gun still in her hand and holstered it. Then she walked over to the ottoman and sat down facing Peter. "We were worried about you." A sneer crossed his face before he could hide it and she knew that he was still angry with Walter. That made the question… "What brought you back?"

"That doesn't come with an easy answer," he warned, but he sat back down and seemed ready to talk to her. It still took a minute or so of fidgeting with his hands before he began. "I didn't think for a long time. It was all about keeping my feet moving and keeping the scenery changing. But it only took one bad night in one God-forsaken place to change my momentum." Peter ran a hand over his face. "There was a murder… and it proved that no matter where I went, that wouldn't change anything that happened before. I was still the same person and strange things were still going on. Once you've seen some of the things we've seen… well, you can't leave those memories behind."

They sat in silence for a moment. Olivia watched his face; she could see that he wasn't finished, but he was still holding back something. "Did you know the victim?" she asked quietly.

Peter sighed, "Not really. I just met her at the diner and she died shortly after. I didn't even know about it until the next morning when I was about to head to the next town." A low laugh. "You know, they suspected me for a while… the out-of-towner. But I wound up helping them find the killer. Some crazy local."

"Peter," Olivia looked down briefly as she watched Peter's hands twitch. "Are you okay?"

"I'm not great, but I'm here," he shot a smirk at her with some of his old humor. His smile faded as he took in her serious face. "Olivia…" She leaned forward on her elbows and looked at the table between them. Peter stood up and moved around to crouch down next to her. "Did something happen?" The _'while I was gone'_ was left unsaid and hung in the air.

"No, nothing happened," she replied, her voice flat.

"Then what's wrong?"

Taking a deep breath, Olivia still couldn't look at him while she answered, "That's all I wondered for a month. Hearing that… Seeing that you're here is just…"

"Weird," he finished for her.

"Too much."

"Ah."

There was a silence between them now and neither moved to break it. But the passing of moments started to weigh on Olivia and she let out a deep breath. "I should call Walter and let him know you're safe," she said softly, as more of a question than a statement.

"No, I don't want him to know yet." Peter's eyes were serious as she glanced at him. "I don't want him to think that I've forgiven him. It's more complicated than that."

"I can't hold it off forever, Peter. This is about more than just your father," she warned him. "What do you want me to do?"

He looked down for a moment and then shifted in front of her and grasped her hands. "What I want, Agent Dunham," his breath rasped, "is for you to close your eyes."

She looked at him, skeptically, "Close my eyes?"

"I'll ignore that look because that's precisely what I was trying to avoid," Peter's smirk flashed across his lips before he continued in earnest. "Trust me, Olivia. Close your eyes."

She stared at him. At this glowing, glimmering Peter that she hadn't seen for a month. She wanted to absorb it all and drink in the fact that he was finally home, but his distorted figure hurt to look at and she finally obeyed him and closed her eyes. A little moisture crept out beneath her lids, from more than one cause.

A light, tender brush of his fingertips whisked away her tear. "That's it," he spoke quietly. "You know part of the reason I left? I finally knew that you saw me differently… like you saw that building before. Like Walter wanted you to see those things in Jacksonville. And I realized that there was a whole other reason why you wouldn't look at me after that building disappeared. It had nothing to do with the fact that I nearly kissed you that night…" She started to open her eyes at that, but stopped when she felt his hands move over them. Peter gave a low laugh, "Not that _that_ didn't change things too, but it deserved a little reevaluation.

"I had assumed so many things… and finding out that I was never meant to live in this world explained so much and so little. But what didn't change, was you."

Olivia started, but didn't open her eyes. "Peter, _everything _changed that night. Especially me. And I wish I could make it go away, but I can't…"

"Stop that," he ordered, and she could hear the smile in his voice. "That night was just one more incredible thing in a hundred things that we found out you could do." She felt him pull her hands up to his face and a light touch to her knuckles that she realized belatedly, was a kiss. "You keep surprising me, Agent Dunham. From the first time we met to now; there may be nothing that you can't do. Believe that."

"There are some things I can't do."

"There are some things you can't do, _yet_," he corrected. "And one thing that you've managed to do, that no one else has, is keep me in one place for more than a year!"

Olivia couldn't help but laugh at that and Peter acknowledged it with a squeeze of her hands. She sobered up quickly, however, and pointed out, "I still see the glimmer though. He said that there was no going back…"

"He doesn't know everything; I've certainly known that for a while now. And, Olivia," she felt Peter shift closer, "there's no point in going back."

"But Peter…"

"Don't go back, Olivia. Let's go forward." She felt his lips brush against hers as he spoke and she knew he was going to lean in, but she didn't want to move away. She had been waiting for this for a month and couldn't turn away if she tried.

When he realized that Olivia wouldn't pull away, Peter let out a warm sigh and released her hands to run his fingers through her hair. His other hand dropped to her thigh and he pressed against her mouth, as though to savor her. And after a moment, Olivia couldn't stay still any longer. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him toward her and feeling his muscles shift closer. His hair was slightly damp and he smelled of hotel soap from wherever he stopped before coming to her apartment. She could feel his warmth surrounding her, and the reality of him slammed into her all at once. More than seeing him sitting on the couch, Olivia could _finally_ believe he was home.

She gave a short sob into his mouth and he drew back a bit to look at her face. "Olivia?" she heard his rough voice question her.

Olivia didn't open her eyes yet, just leaned into his shoulder to keep him close. "Will you stay?" she voiced the one question that was burning in her. It hurt to even acknowledge that he could leave again and Olivia _needed_ to know now, before his going could devastate her a second time.

His arms slid around her waist and he held her close. "I won't leave you, Olivia. That I promise," Peter whispered in her ear.

Relief poured through her and sheer exhaustion overtook her. Olivia's arms gripped him tight even as the rest of her body collapsed into his. She pressed a soft kiss against his neck and felt him give a brief shiver before he shifted her back in front of him. She opened her eyes to him again and though he still shimmered, all she could focus on was the concern and (dare she imagine it) the love in his eyes. Peter cupped her cheek and gave a small smile when she leaned into it.

"I think you need some sleep, Olivia," he said gently, with a slight teasing smile. He stood up and tugged her along with him. She took a moment to steady herself and glanced at the papers and folders she had dropped when she first saw him on the couch. Peter gave a wry look, "I think that can wait until morning, Agent Dunham."

She rolled her eyes back at him. "Shut up." Olivia started toward the bedroom, but paused before taking her third step. Peter was watching her as she turned back to look at him with a neutral expression. As though he knew what she was going to ask before she said it, but still needed her to ask. "Stay here tonight?" her eyes pleaded with him even as he smiled back at her.

Without a word, he stepped up to her and turned her back towards her bedroom. Peter kept his hand on the small of her back as they walked through her apartment and she was grateful for that reassurance. Reaching her bed, she didn't hesitate to strip out of her work clothes. Peter had seen her in less before and she wasn't above using temptation to keep him here. She already knew that her selfishness would do anything to keep him close and accepted it. Olivia suspected that he realized her purpose because she heard a brief chuckle and he caressed her waist before moving his hand to allow her to remove her shirt.

Down to her underwear and bra, she turned to face Peter, even as she heard him unbuckling his belt. Olivia watched him step out of his pants, leaving him only in a t-shirt and his boxers. He moved to the bed, but stopped as she reached for the bottom of his shirt. With another of his low chuckles, he raised his arms as she took off his shirt, leaving his firm, bare chest to her view. Olivia trailed her fingers over his sides as she stepped closer and leaned in for a kiss.

Peter obliged her request and leaned down to slowly, but thoroughly, devour her mouth. Olivia responded in kind until she began to get lightheaded from lack of air. Feeling Peter laughing into her mouth and around her tongue was a sensation she enjoyed and wanted to experience again. But he gently drew back and gave her a mocking command. "Bed, Agent Dunham. We can continue this after you wake up."

Olivia sat down and tugged on his arm until he followed her onto the bed. "Promise?"

"Promise, Olivia." Peter pressed a kiss to her temple. "Get some sleep."

They both shifted under the covers until Olivia was comfortably on her side and Peter pressed up against her back with one arm loosely wrapped over her and fingers drawing over her stomach. Olivia drifted off feeling like _finally_, after a month of worry and pain, that things were the way they should be. She felt whole again and that horrible waiting was finally at its end.

"I love you, Peter," she murmured, and she could have sworn that she heard him say the words back before she dropped into sleep.

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Olivia woke up slowly, as the light began to spill in through the window curtain. She groaned, wondering if she had slept in, and was getting ready to hit Peter for letting her sleep so late when she realized that she couldn't feel him next to her. Olivia flipped around quickly and found the sheets rumpled and cool to the touch.

And then she noticed that she wasn't moving as freely as usual. With a dawning horror, Olivia saw that she was still in her work pants and shirt, with her jacket hanging off the bottom corner of the bed. Peter, his return …had all been a dream of her overstressed mind.

She sat up and pressed her face into her knees, just breathing for several minutes, or what felt like several days, or the whole previous month relived again in that moment. Olivia gripped her knees and took a final, steady breath. This was enough; this couldn't keep going on as it had been.

She had to find him.

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End file.
